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Thursday, 20 August 2015

I'd wager a bet that most people in my position would say that the best day of their life was their wedding day or the day their child(ren) was born. But for me, it was neither. Sure, both were wonderful in their own way; celebration, joy, happiness, family, highly emotional, time of change etc etc. But with both my wedding and the birth of my son, I would change so many things if I could do them over again. Neither were as perfect as in my imagined reality, certain things still annoy me and always will surrounding both events.

No, for me the best day of my life was 9 years ago today. It was a Sunday. It was the last day of our holiday leave from work. Hubby (he wasn't then) and I were lying in bed reading the Sunday papers drinking coffee. Well, when I say reading the papers, I do believe I was reading the News Of The World (hangs head in shame...), or rather their magazine, Septic Smeg (Mystic Meg)'s column in particular. Hubby was reading the Sunday Mail (I just want to say here that our reading materials have significantly improved over the years!!), or rather their magazine, Lynne Ewart's column in particular. Hubby read his horoscope aloud and asked what Septic Smeg had to say. As I was reading the prediction for the week ahead in the life of a Gemini, he reached down the side of the bed (to get what I presumed was his coffee) saying "Thats all very interesting. So, will you marry me?" and produced the ring.

Squeal! Tears! "YES!""Ha ha" "Oooooh!" came my reply, although I'm not sure in which order. And with that we were engaged. No big fanfare, no fuss, nothing showy, no embarrassment, no audience; just us. It was perfect.

I knew we were "getting engaged" being as it had been discussed and I picked my ring one afternoon as we wandered through the Argyll Arcade in Glasgow. Several weeks before we were engaged, Hubby took my Dad for a pint to the local and informed my Dad of his intentions "So, I'm going to ask Lissa to marry me." I picked them up from the club as we were having dinner at my parent's that evening. Over dinner my Dad could hardly contain his excitement and had I not known in advance of the impending proposal, the cat would have been well and truly out the bag as my Dad shared the news with my Mum at the table before looking at Hubby and asking if I knew! That was all I knew; it was happening and there would be jewellery. I did not know when and I did not know how it would happen.

The proposal could not have gone any better; the mood, the setting, the actual popping of the question. I would change nothing if we were to do it over again. The rest of the day that followed was a visit to both set of parents, but not before a run in the car through to Causewayhead in Stirling to Corrieri's for ice cream. It was the calm, simpler time before the madness takes over, the madness that is organising a wedding!